


A Thousand Furlongs of Sea

by Scribe



Category: Slings & Arrows
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Author's Favorite, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 06:12:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe/pseuds/Scribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slings & Arrows, the Pirate AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thousand Furlongs of Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [azarias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/azarias/gifts).



> I know absolutely nothing about anything nautical. This is total crack. Title is from _The Tempest_, somewhat at random.

There were a great many rumors surrounding Captain Geoffrey Tennant.

People said he'd run away to sea at the age of eight, feeling its call so strong that it didn't matter a whit that his parents would never speak to him again. They said he'd been a natural, a prodigy, next in line for control of the entire navy. And then he'd had a falling out with Admiral Richard (some folk whispered of corruption at this point in the narrative, politics and blackmail and something rotten at the heart of the fleet, but others merely said that too much expectation and years without the sight of land had driven him mad).

In the seven years since the rumors had died down, but now they were flying again, wilder than ever. Captain Tennant was sailing again, they said. He had a new ship, The Swan, that he'd built with his own hands, or was it that he'd stolen it out from under the Admiral's nose? He'd turned to piracy, or he was on a quest of revenge. Dissidents scattered to the four corners of the earth were rallying to him. There were other rumors, too, ones that were spoken in quieter whispers and with brighter eyes. There was something off about him, they said. He spoke to his damned parrot more than to his crew. He could stand straight through a storm with nary a stumble, like he had some strange magical bond with the sea. No, more than that, he knew how to control the waves with a word. He was completely insane.

Obviously it was all blown out of proportion, thought Conroy, picking her way across the always rather littered deck. Although Captain Tennant certainly was a little strange about that parrot.

If anyone would know truth among the rumors, it would be Conroy. She'd joined up as Tennant's cabin boy years ago, when he was still on the right side of the law—well, tried to join up, anyway. She'd never been much good at the whole pretending-to-be-a-boy ruse. Being an early developer hadn't helped her disguise much and she was nearly as bad at coming up with convincing lies as she was at cursing and swaggering and scratching her- well, you know. Things men scratch. Tennant had seen through her in a matter of minutes, but had kept her on anyway, and her loyalty had been his from that moment on.

He did cut something of a mythical figure, she thought as she approached. The salt spray turned his hair into a rioting mess and his long coat billowed and snapped in the wind.

"Hello, Anna," he said without turning from the wheel.

"Hello, sir." It was an ongoing war between them: Tennant preferred an amount of informality that was downright disrespectful, but on the few issues where Conroy managed to rally a backbone she could be surprisingly stubborn. It had taken years to talk her down from 'Captain' to 'sir'.

"Tell me it's something exciting this time," said Tennant.

"The lookout's spotted a ship, sir."

"Really? Who was it?"

"Jack, sir. The new recruit."

"Of course. I thought he'd have a keen eye. See that he gets some kind of reward, will you?" The way that Tennant knew his crew never failed to amaze Conroy. She knew them all as well, but that was a result of careful observation and the occasional mnemonic device. Tennant never appeared to put any effort into it at all.

The parrot squawked, bringing her back to the present, and Tennant slapped at it ineffectually.

"Whose colors?" he asked.

"Nichols, sir."

That got a smile, the Captain finally turning to look at her.

"And what colors would those be?"

"A lot of neon, sir, and Jack says he thinks they may have sparkled, but that could just be eye strain."

"No, I'm certain they sparkled. Very well, then. Will he do for our first engagement, do you think, Anna?"

"I'll go ready the crew," she replied, turning to head below. It was a tricky skill, but she'd had ample years to learn when Tennant's questions were actually looking for answers.

Alone at the helm once more, Captain Geoffrey Tennant was lost in his thoughts- at least until another loud squawk interrupted them.

"Oh, shut up," he said, and then a few minutes later, resignedly, "Ollie want a cracker?"


End file.
